


Not Just a River in Egypt

by thehomodabrothers (orphan_account)



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged-Up Hiro, Denial, M/M, nobody is having any of your shit hiro, not-brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thehomodabrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Hiro meets Tadashi, it’s when he’s lying on his side on the pavement, one arm jammed so far into the bowels of a campus vending machine that he fears it will never see the light of day again.</p><p>(Tadashi is a catch, the iPod gains sentience, and Hiro insists that he is Definitely Not Gay. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just a River in Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> by thehomodabrothers.

 

The first time Hiro meets Tadashi, it’s when he’s lying on his side on the pavement, one arm jammed so far into the bowels of a campus vending machine that he fears it will never see the light of day again.

The other boy stops. The look in his eyes says he wants to help, but the left eye, Hiro thinks, is specifically saying ‘pity’, and the right one is saying ‘disbelief’. It’s not a nonverbal monologue he’d rather not deal with, so he rolls onto his back and grins.

“Hey,” he says, radiating (or at least weakly diffusing) nonchalance. “Do you, uh. Come here often?”

The stranger blinks. “I come here every day. I’m a student. I have the SFIT cap and everything.”

He does, at that. Hiro thinks he can be forgiven for not noticing, seeing as his favourite arm is being held-captive in an improbably small take-out port. He waves his other hand noncommittally anyway. “Cool, cool. So, uh, technology, huh?”

“Yeah, technology,” says the boy, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. He tucks his books under one arm and takes a step forward. “Say, buddy, do you need a hand?”

“A hand? No, no. I’ve got my own right here, you see,” Hiro says, gesturing to the hand trapped behind glass, fist closed triumphantly around a packet of gummy bears but, unfortunately, stuck. “It’s a pretty good hand, if I do say so myself. Comes in very, uh. Handy.”

“Right. Listen...”

“Hiro.”

“Tadashi,” says the other boy, setting down his books and kneeling next to him. Hiro can’t see him without twisting his neck like an owl. “I’m going to try and get you out, okay? I’ve never actually taken apart a vending machine before, but I guess this is where an engineering degree comes in useful.”

“What?” Hiro’s voice cracks slightly as he tries to squirm away. “Get me out? You don’t have to do that, I assure you this is entirely intentional! I’m just holding these gummies for a friend till she gets here.”

“And you’re going to hold them while they’re still in the machine?”

“Freshness is important, you know.”

“Mhm.” Tugging the plastic flap as far open as it can go, Tadashi inspects the damage, prodding at Hiro’s arm where it’s lodged between the glass case and the snacks. “I have some tools back in the bioengineering lab. Maybe I could crack the door open, and then we could work on slipping you out. Might need some lube, though.”

“We don't need lube,” says Hiro, somewhat pointlessly trying to inch away. “Like I said, my friend’ll be here any second. You should hurry, you’re going to be late to class, right?”

“Not really, I was just going to the library-”

“Studying!” says Hiro. “Very important! Much more important than staying here!”

Frowning, Tadashi swats at the hand trying ineffectually to push him away by the shoulder. “What’s with you? I’m only trying to help.”

“Yes, I know, thank you for that,” Hiro says, eyes darting around. “It’s just, GoGo’s probably going to show up here with a _very big_ buzz saw, and it’s best that you don’t stick around. You don’t need to get in trouble for mangling school property because I was trying to get at the gummy bears.”

Tadashi’s lips part slightly. “You were trying to steal them?”

“What- no, I _paid_ for them.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you.” Tadashi’s face, now that Hiro’s close enough to see it with that ugly baseball cap on, is irritatingly cheerful. “Poor kid.”

“I will have you know,” Hiro says snippily, “that I am very nearly eighteen years old.”

“Are we talking cat years or dog years?”

Hiro is just about to express his utter outrage when he’s suddenly nudged in the ribs with a black-sneakered foot. He lets out a strangled wheeze, because GoGo is apparently the kind of person to capitalize on her friends’ weaknesses (tickling), and rolls over. It ruins the intimidating effect he’s going for a little bit.

“You’re an absolute _cabbage_ ,” Hiro says, trying to protect both sets of ribs with only one hand.

GoGo raises an immaculate eyebrow, sparing Tadashi a glance. “Is that how you treat the one person in the entire university willing to rescue you from the consequences of your own stupid actions?”

“No, please…rescue me…!”

“Hmm.” Dropping her duffel bag on the ground and kneeling to rummage through it, GoGo unearths a custom saw, not much more than a handle with an electromagnetic disc attached at the end. Interestingly, she only seems to have one pair of safety goggles, which she wears. She flexes her fingers. “Ready?”

Hiro balks. “Wait, do I not get any protection? Where are my goggles? Where’s my mask?”

“I’ve only got the one set,” she replies. Tadashi takes a few steps back. “By the way, these are kind of old, so my vision’s a little blurry. You don’t need _all_ of your fingers, right?”

“What?” Hiro’s eyes consider popping right out of his skull and running away, and the rest of him does its best to follow suit. “GOGO? GOGO NO. STOP, THIS IS NOT OKAY. _”_

“Stop whining, woman up,” GoGo says and revs the saw.

Hiro throws his head back and shrieks.

Tadashi, damn him, laughs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hiro rubs his hands over his face and groans.

A glance out the window confirms what he’d feared; dawn is fast approaching, which means he’s been in the lab all night again, which means Aunt Cass is going to pitch a fit when he finally gets home, _again._ His phone would have died sometime around midnight. When he turns it back on there’ll probably be at least six missed calls. He presses his hands to his temples. If he’s right, he’s never going to hear the end of it, ever.

Something bumps his elbow. He squints at it. It is, for some reason, his iPod, rolling in slow circles around the clutter on his desk.

 _When did you develop wheels,_ Hiro tries to say, but all he can manage is a flat “what”, because really, what. The iPod pauses stops spinning to look at him, insofar as one can be looked at by an improbably sentient mp3 player with no discernible eyes, and cautiously rolls closer to jostle his fingers. He picks it up, turns it over, and sighs.

Someone, probably him, has installed tiny, mismatched wheels onto the bottom of the device, making it look like a miniature skateboard. Why he may have decided he would ever need an automotive music player is a question he can’t answer, considering the thing was literally made to be carried around in his pocket, but Hiro’s tinkered with things on very little sleep in the past. This improvement is a comparatively mild one. Deciding for the moment to leave the upgrade as it is, he sets the iPod down. It flashes its screen at him, and then skitters off to investigate the contents of his toolbox.

Other students will probably be arriving soon. Today isn’t carpooling day (they _say_ carpooling, but it’s really only Wasabi picking everyone up), so there’s no telling which of his friends is going to show first. His head falls onto his desk with a dull _thump_. Whoever it is, he hopes they bring food. Or, at the very least, caffeine.

He figures he’s got an hour to stare blankly into space (because sleep is for the _weak_ , and Hiro is _not_ tempted to nod off right there in the robotics lab, thanks) before anyone other than the iPod bothers him. Once he’s had a quick a break, he can go back to working on his donut drone, designed for easy food transfer at the cafe. If he stays on schedule, he’ll have the thrusters and GPS installed by the end of the week.

 

Someone taps him on the back of the head, jolting him upright and out of his stupor. He blinks rapidly, and then relaxes. It’s only GoGo.

(Actually, he’s not sure if he should be saying it’s _only_ GoGo, considering she’s probably the most dangerous thing in the room, Wasabi’s invisible lasers included.)

She frowns at him. “How long have you been here?”

“Uh. I’m not actually sure.” Stretching until his joints pop, Hiro spins around in his chair to face her, legs folded. “You’re here early.”

“Electro-mag bike needs some tweaking. I was thinking if I could design a strong enough transistor, I’d be able to reduce the size of the dynamo and make the whole thing lighter.” She squints at Hiro’s table. “Why is your iPod moving?”

“Huh? Oh, I installed wheels in it.”

“Why?”                                      

“Good question.” Planting both feet on the ground, he pushes. The movement sends his swivel chair zooming across the room towards GoGo’s things so he can poke his nose into her bag. “Breakfast?”

“Get out of there, you.” She tosses an eraser at him. It lands somewhere in the hood of his jacket, and he ends up going around in circles trying to get it out. “Your mp-3-wheel would be a lot faster if you used teflon wheels instead of regular plastic.”

“Please don’t turn my stuff into racing equipment, I don’t need an iPod that can run away from me,” says Hiro. “I’m not built for high-speed chases. Or like, regular speed-chases, even.”

“I know,” says GoGo, ignoring the iPod’s angry clicking to inspect it close-up. “You wouldn’t have gotten yourself stuck in a vending machine if you didn’t have the motor coordination of a banana slug.”

“It’s just!” says Hiro, waving his hands around for emphasis. “I was taking a break! I thought a snack would be nice, you know? Except, apparently that _lying sack of shit of a machine_ has a habit of not giving you things even after you’ve paid good money for ‘em! So, I thought to myself, Hiro, you need to get in there and take what you deserve, and look what happened. _Look what happened,”_ he says, finally managing to get GoGo’s stationary out of his hood. “I am never taking my fingers for granted ever again. Your buzz saw is a public menace. _You,_ GoGo, are a public menace.”

“At least you’re still mostly intact.” Tossing the intrepid music player back into the clutter, she picks up Hiro’s donut drone and points out a loose nut. “So, who was that guy?”

“What guy?” asks Hiro, rolling back to take the device and start fiddling with it.

GoGo gives him a second to consider what he’s just said. “You know who I’m talking about _._ Tall, well-built, witnessed you getting owned by a twentieth-century piece of technology. _That_ guy.”

“Oh.” Frowning deeply, Hiro heaves himself out of his chair and heads to the innocuous red box perched on the stack of shelves in the corner. Setting it on the floor, he takes a step back and clears his throat. “Baymax, wake up.”

The familiar hiss of air is loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Hello. I am your combat companion, Baymax.”

“I _know_ , buddy,” Hiro says, smiling nonetheless. He holds out the drone. “Here, I can’t tighten this nut. Time to put that super-strength of yours to good use.”

Baymax complies wordlessly. Hiro turns around, realising suddenly that GoGo’s still giving him that _look_ , the one with one raised brow and both hands on her hips. He automatically feels defensive without really knowing why. “What?”

“ _The guy.”_

“Ugh.” Hiro rolls his eyes, flopping back into his chair. “He said his name was Tadashi. I think he was one of the bioengineering students? I dunno. He was kind of an ass.”

“Wasn’t he trying to help you?”

“Yeah, at first, but then he just laughed at me. He had a really lame laugh, too, all snorty and whatever. He wrinkled his nose and everything, I mean, who even does that? God, what a dick.”

GoGo stares at him. “You remember his laugh?”

Hiro raises an eyebrow in return. “Uh, yeah? It was really annoying, sorta hard to get out of your head.”

“Uh-huh.” Patting around her pockets, she tugs out her wallet. “Come on, pipsqueak, we’re leaving.”

“I’m taller than you,” says Hiro, taking a step forwards nonetheless. “Where are we going?”

GoGo offers him a half smile. “You said you wanted breakfast, right? I’ll buy you something.”

 _That_ perks him up. Bounding across the room, he twists around to give Baymax a salute. “Stay here till I get back, okay?”

Baymax waves them goodbye. Hiro jogs out of the lab, returning after a second to latch onto his friend’s sleeve. She allows herself to be tugged along. “You’re the best, GoGo. Can we go to the cafeteria? I want waffles!”

“Why don’t you try fruit for a change?”

He gives her a wounded look. “It’s like you don’t even _know_ me.”

 

The walk across campus is quiet, considering students are only just starting to arrive. They’ve seen the chrome and glass of the Ito Ishioka building so often that they barely notice it anymore, instead turning their faces up to catch the first snatches of sunshine the day has to offer. Hiro hops onto the parapet of the bridge linking their part of the college grounds to the main block, and tries not to fall.

GoGo is characteristically silent, only nodding along to Hiro’s chatter. It tapers off when she veers away from their destination to walk through the sliding doors of a building Hiro’s never actually seen.

He catches the back of her jacket. “You know, the cafeteria’s _that_ way.”

“I know,” she says smoothly, and continues walking in the wrong direction.

He looks around. Whatever this building is, it’s not much different from the one he’s used to aside from the strong smell of bleach and something chemical. Sticking close to his friend, he peers through half-open doors, hoping to catch some clue as to what exactly they’re doing here. He glances around surreptitiously for an exit, in case this is all an elaborate plot to steal his kidneys with the promise of false waffles.

It isn’t. He does, however, get hit in the face with half a potato when GoGo opens a door.

 

 

He screeches and topples backwards. A voice (masculine, he thinks dimly) cries a too-late warning, and then he gets a moment to admire the craftsmanship of the ceiling.

A head pops into his field of vision. It is, Hiro notices with some displeasure, one he’s seen before.

“Hiro?”

 _“You.”_ Scrambling upright, Hiro scowls at the vegetable in his lap. It probably isn’t responsible for its own air-propulsion, but he is immensely offended by it nonetheless. “What is this? Were you trying to make your lunch explode?”

Tadashi sits back on his haunches and blinks. “What are you doing in the bioeng lab?”

“I don’t know!” says Hiro, gingerly picking up the potato and flinging it away. “Ask GoGo! She’s the one who led me here. I didn’t even know this building _existed_.”

“It’s kind of hard to miss, you know, it’s got, like, six floors.” He pauses and looks up. “You sure you didn’t come alone? I don’t see anyone.”

Hiro’s head snaps around so quickly it almost gives them both whiplash. “Wha- where is she? What the hell, she was right here, I swear.”

Tadashi grins. “Sure she was. You totally didn’t come here to visit me, or anything.”

Hiro gives him a look specifically designed to peel wallpaper. “I don’t associate with people who throw _potatoes_ at other people.”

“I didn’t throw it. I was using it as an organic power source for my prosthetic.” He turns and gestures to a table by the side of the room. A mechanical leg, connected to an assortment of vegetation, kicks enthusiastically in the air. “I may have given it a bit too much juice.

“No kidding,” grumbles Hiro, accepting the hand offered to help him up. The lab is largely empty aside from two other students who pay them no attention. It looks the same as Hiro’s own lab, save for some of the equipment, which looks like it’s meant for poking at fungus and is therefore rather less exciting. He rubs at the sore spot on his forehead and inches closer to the leg despite himself. “Why not just use a battery?”

Tadashi follows him. “I’m trying to make it self-sustaining, so it can survive off the chemical reactions a person’s cells make naturally. That way it’ll last for a lifetime. Plus, nobody wants their limbs running out of power when they’re in the middle of town, you know?”

Baymax’s drunken stumbling suddenly comes to mind. Hiro brushes the thought away and peers at Tadashi’s project. “Good detailing, your work’s pretty neat. You modelled it after a real leg?”

“Yup,” Tadashi chirrups. “I had to cut up a cadaver and everything. Did you know skin was really hard to cut through? Because I sure didn’t.”

Hiro makes a face at him. “What did you use? Tungsten carbide?”

“I used a scalpel.”

“What did you use _to build the leg,_ knucklehead.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. Titanium, it’s lighter. The idea is to add weights to the frame to match the patient’s organic leg.” Tadashi leans against the table with a proud smile, wincing only slightly when his wildly swinging invention catches him on the elbow. “Definitely too much juice.”

“You might want to try actual juice, you’ll be able to dilute it if you need to until you get your math right,” says Hiro absently, chewing his lip the way he does when he’s thinking hard. “How do you control it?”

The other boy shrugs. “I’m thinking something that connects directly to the brain. Better dexterity. Plus, if I can match the right brainwaves, you’d be able to feel just like you would with a healthy leg.”

“Like a neural-cranial transmitter,” says Hiro, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “That would be so much fun to build! Imagine if you could control stuff other than legs, though, like, what if you could control a bunch of robots with just your brain, that’d be _totally sick-”_

“Are you offering to help?” Tadashi grins, canting his head.

Hiro turns up his nose. “You know, I would, if you hadn’t tried to assault me.”

“Don’t be like that,” says Tadashi placidly (as if he finds Hiro’s pain _funny,_ the bastard). “I’ll make it up to you somehow. I’ll get you gummy worms! You like those, right? And you won’t have to deal with the scary vending machine again.”

“Gummy _bears_ ,” says Hiro acidly. “Gummy worms are an abomination. Also, I can handle the vending machine just fine. When the vending machine decides to _steal from me,_ that’s when there’s a problem.”

“I’ll protect you,” Tadashi assures him. “By the way, what’s your major?”

“Robotics,” responds Hiro automatically. “Wait, why do you care?”

“No reason. Also, my last name’s Hamada. Just thought you should know, since it’s only polite to tell someone your full name when you’ve hit them with a potato.”

“I don’t think that applies unless you were challenging me to a duel, in which case you need to work on your technique.” He blinks. “Wait, hold up. Your name is Hamada?”

“Yes? Why, do you want to share it?”

“I don’t need to. My last name is Hamada too.”

Tadashi blinks and then laughs. “Seriously? Wait, does that mean we’re related?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Just because we’re both Japanese, you think we look alike?” Hiro snarks. Glancing at the large digital clock on the wall, he shifts slightly and casts a longing look at the prosthetic. “Shit, I should get to class soon. I’ve got two hours of theoretical physics to sit through.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Tadashi gestures to the door. “Hey, don’t let me stop you. Go put that big brain of yours to good use.”

“Sure.” Turning on his heel, Hiro stuff his hands into his pockets. “Uh, see you around, or whatever.”

Tadashi waves. “Say hi to your imaginary friend for me.”

“GoGo is _real_ ,” Hiro says, and makes sure to slam the door extra hard on the way out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I hear,” says Fred, “that there’s a new _man_ in your life.”

Honey Lemon lets out a noise that the rest of them may have been able to translate if they had a dolphin handy. “A new _man?”_

Hiro looks up from his drone and blinks. Spitting out a couple of screws, he arches a brow. “Are you talking about Baymax? Because he’s been around for at least a year.”

Fred scoffs at him. “Dude, I’m talking about that _guy._ The bioengineer. GoGo told us all about him. Are you two going out?”

“What? No!” Nose wrinkling in disgust, Hiro turns to face him completely. “Why would I be dating _him_? Anyway, I’m not gay.”

Fred, for some reason, laughs. “Sure.”

The robotics lab is unusually empty for a Wednesday afternoon. Hiro’s been hunched over his desk for the past couple of hours, Baymax peering curiously over his shoulder. Fred’s sitting on GoGo’s desk, which she only permits because she’s currently in a corner sorting tools with Wasabi. Honey Lemon tosses aside the book on electrochemistry she’s reading to give him a large smile.

“Hiro, you know we love you either way, right?”

“I am _not gay_ ,” Hiro snaps, accidentally jabbing himself in the finger with a screwdriver. The iPod, which for some reason seems to have gained sentience along with mobility, chooses that moment to start up a love ballad. Hiro slams his fist on it.

GoGo pauses in organizing an assortment of tiny hammers. “You’re gay. I’ve seen your manga collection.”

Hiro whirls around, face turning quite a magnificent shade of magenta. “I read those for the _story_ ,” he bristles, brandishing the screwdriver menacingly. “Anyway, I don’t want to hear anything from you after you _dragged me to a strange building_ and _left me there.”_

She rolls her eyes. “You found your way back, didn’t you? After a long time, I might add. Either you hung around for a while for a chat, or your sense of direction is complete and utter shit. Face it, kid, you’re interested in the guy.”

“I am _not_.”

“Mhm.” GoGo rests a hand on her hip. “What colour were his eyes?”

“Brown,” says Hiro immediately. “Not, like, hazel. Really dark brown, kinda russet almost. Or would you call that cedar? I dunno, maybe not. They were more of a #8B4513. What does that have to do with anything?”

GoGo raises her eyebrows like she’s just won an argument. Wasabi snickers at him from behind his tools.

Hiro ignores them and goes back to his drone. It’s basically complete save for some aesthetic changes he can make whenever, so he digs around for the controller and starts it up. It whirls to life and rises slowly, buzzing at a height of about eight feet like a lazy grey bee as it starts a slow lap around the room. Baymax toddles after it, hands outstretched.

 

“Is this what the nerd lab builds? Big marshmallows?”

Hiro looks up. Leaning against the doorframe and poking at Baymax’s stomach is a bioengineering student Hiro would rather not have seen ever again.

“He’s not a marshmallow, he’s a battlebot,” Hiro says, waving the screwdriver in Tadashi’s direction dismissively. “Did you just call this a nerd lab? I resent that. I will have you know that I am cool. Not just cool, I’m very cool. I’m cool as hell.”

Tadashi circles Baymax, scratching at his chin. “Hell is warm. I mean, I can see where you’re coming from, but Hell is very much warm. You realise bot fighting is illegal, right?”

“No, _betting_ on bot fights is illegal. Lucrative, but illegal.”

Baymax follows Tadashi’s movements, head nearly turning 180. “Hello, I am Baymax.”

“Tadashi,” says the outsider, offering a grin.

GoGo snorts in a decidedly unladylike manner. The others’ curious gazes turn to her, and she offers them a knowing look while Hiro has his back to her. “Hey, Mr Bioengineer. Welcome to the _nerd lab.”_

Tadashi’s smile turns sheepish. “GoGo, right? We met once. I’m here to visit Hiro. He promised he’d help me work on a neural-cranial transmitter for my latest project, I’m just here to remind him. Also I brought gummy worms.”

“Gummy _bears,”_ says Hiro in exasperation. “I told you, gummy worms are worth nothing to me.”

“These were the best I could do, considering the vending machine closest to this building has been _completely obliterated_ for some reason,” Tadashi responds, waggling his eyebrows. Hiro is strangely silent at that.

Laughing for reasons Hiro can’t discern, Honey Lemon launches out of her chair and skips across the room to grab Tadashi by the hands. “It’s so nice to meet you!” she cries, spinning him around. “Hiro’s told us all about you!”

“He has?”

“I have?”

She pauses. “Well, no. But we’re still really excited!”

Fred, having migrated to his armchair, wiggles until he’s upside down. “A friend of Hiro’s is a friend of ours, dudebro. I’m Fred. By day, I am school mascot. By night, I am usually unemployed.”

Honey Lemon points to herself, smiling wide. “You can call me Honey Lemon! And he’s Wasabi,” she says, pointing at the man in the corner, who waves.

“Tadashi,” says Tadashi, somewhat unnecessarily.

Hiro pipes up. “His last name’s Hamada. Like me!”

Wasabi snorts. “No way, you guys have the same surname?”

“That’ll make it easier when you get married,” GoGo mutters.

“Great!” says Tadashi, at the same time Hiro says “ew”.

Honey Lemon’s eyes almost sparkle. “Oh, you know, what? I, uhm, actually have a project due tomorrow! It’s really big so I need to work on it, and the rest of us are _really busy too,_ ” she says, turning around to toss Hiro a discrete wink that is missed by nobody in the lab. “So we won’t be able to talk to you guys for a while. Sorry! You’ll just have to entertain each other, okay?”

“Okay,” says Tadashi obediently. She pulls him into a hug, flounces back to her chair and buries her nose in her book, music loud.

 

Hiro rolls his eyes. Tadashi’s smile is slightly lost, but he rallies and pulls a packet of gummies out of his back pocket. He tosses them to Hiro, who promptly drops them, and grins. “I like your friends.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call them my friends. They’re just people I hang around a lot,” Hiro shrugs, ignoring GoGo’s eraser bouncing off his forehead.

Tadashi saunters to Hiro’s desk and leans his hip against it. “Baymax is awfully squishy to be a battlebot.”

“Vinyl was all I had in the garage, don’t hate. Anyway, I don’t actually use him for battles. He refuses to throw a punch.”

“I do not enjoy violence,” says Baymax mildly.

“No kidding,” says Tadashi with some admiration. “Is he strong?”

“Well, duh,” Hiro says around a mouthful of candy. “He’d be a pretty crappy battlebot otherwise.”

“He’d be a pretty crappy battlebot if he wouldn’t actually do any battle.”

“Point taken.” The drone makes its way slowly back to them, knocking over a stack of papers on the way. “I dunno, I built him a long time ago. I thought he’d win easier if he were huge. I probably screwed up the code somewhere and made him passive, but I never really got around to changing it. Now I mostly just use Baymax to open jars and get things down from high shelves.”

Tadashi smiles, reaching out to beckon the robot closer. Baymax obliges. “Man, that’s _unbelievable_. You could use him to do so much more than bot fighting! You could help a lot of people, buddy,” he says, sticking his face into Baymax’s belly to get a closer look at his skeleton. “You know what I bet you could be? You could be a _nurse.”_

“Baymax can’t be a nurse, he can barely tie his own shoelaces.”

“I do not wear shoes,” Baymax informs them.

Hiro pats his arm. “It’s just an expression.”

Both arms wrapped around the robot, Tadashi turns slightly. “With a few upgrades, he’d be really great. You could upload medical procedures onto his database, you know? Oh, maybe you could put _defibrillators_ in his hands-”

“Nobody’s putting defibrillators in Baymax,” Hiro snaps, tossing a gummy worm into Tadashi’s hair. “Don’t mutilate my robot. If you’re going to mutilate my robot you have to leave. Why are you here, anyway?”

“I told you, I’m here to give you candy and remind you of your promise to help me build a neural-cranial transmitter.”

“Okay, first of all, I promised you nothing, and second of all, you sound like a creepy kidnapper.”

Grinning, Tadashi releases Baymax and makes himself comfortable on Hiro’s table. “You should give me your number so I won’t have to kidnap you, then.”

“Who said I want you contacting me?”

“If I can contact you then I won’t have to drop by your nerd lab in front of all your nerd friends. Who are, by the way, giving me some pretty intense looks.”

Hiro pauses to glance at them. Honey Lemon gives him a thumbs up.

“...give me your phone.”

“Sweet.”

Hiro saves the number. “Pfft, iPhone. What are you, a hundred?”

“You say that, but I can see an iPod on your desk-”

“It was a _gift-”_

“Why is it moving?”

The iPod promptly launches into _It’s My Life_ , even though Hiro doesn’t remember having downloaded the song. He huffs and throws it out the window.

Tadashi, to his credit, only looks mildly horrified. “Could I, uh, have my phone back?”

“Yes.” Hiro hands it over and clicks his pen with an air of finality. “You may leave.”

“Thank you, my lord,” says Tadashi with an exaggerated bow.

Gogo waves from the corner. “Yo, Hamada, my eraser’s on the floor somewhere. Could you toss it over here?”

Tadashi blinks. “Are you talking to me or Hiro?”

“It doesn’t matter, just give me my eraser.”

“Okay, okay,” says Tadashi good-naturedly. “As soon as I find it.”

“It should be under the table,” says Hiro, making absolutely no move to help.

“Thanks,” says Tadashi dryly. He bends over to start the search.

 

Silence settles over them heavily, as the intrepid six notice for the first time that Tadashi is wearing very, _very_ tight jeans.

“Hama _damn,”_ says Fred quietly from across the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Mochi,” says Hiro, voice syrupy sweet.

The cat looks down from its perch on top of the kitchen cabinet with the most contemptuous expression Hiro’s ever seen. “ _Mrow,”_ it says imperiously.

Hiro drops the facade like hot coal. “Get down from there, hairball. I’d be happy to leave you marinating in your own juices for as long as you want, but Aunt Cass says I have to give you a bath. The sooner you give in, the sooner we can get this over with.”

Mochi, apparently understanding him, leaps off the cabinet with a yowl and makes a mad dash for the sweet freedom of the kitty door. Unfortunately, it’s a bit too fat to manage anything more than a hurried waddle, so Hiro catches it around the middle without much trouble. “Come on, Nospurratu. This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.” He’s not exaggerating, either. Mochi’s claws haven’t been trimmed in a while.

Hauling the squirming animal upstairs takes a fair bit of effort, and Hiro briefly considers the prospect of going to the gym one day. That would require going outside, though, so he scraps the idea. He could wash Mochi in Aunt Cass’ bathroom just to spite her, but she’d probably make him clean up the mess, so he changes direction and stomps up the stairs to his own bathroom instead.

There’s a small matter of keeping Mochi still while he fills up the tub. Last time he’d asked Baymax to hold the cat, but that had resulted in several punctures and a frankly stupid amount of cellophane tape, so Hiro instead kicks the door shut behind him and knocks the laundry basket over with a foot. Mochi yowls piteously upon being dropped and immediately tries to escape, barreling into toiletries until Hiro can trap the cat under the laundry basket and sit on it.

He should really just use cold water to teach it a lesson, but he gets the feeling that may backfire on him somehow, so he makes it pleasantly warm instead. Mochi caterwauls him from under the basket. Hiro ignores it.

His cell phone rings just as he’s trying to use the basket to corral Mochi into the tub. He grumbles under his breath and picks it up, holding it awkwardly to his ear by hunching one shoulder. “Hiro Hamada _aaaaugh!”_

There’s a pause at the other end of the line. “ _Everything okay?”_

Hiro grimaces at the cat, who’s staring at him through sopping wet fur and narrowed green eyes. “ _Peachy,_ ” Hiro hisses. “Mochi’s just splashing water at me because he’s a humongous _asshole_ who’s being a baby about taking a bath even though everyone knows he stinks.”

“ _Well, I can call you back if you’re busy.”_

Hiro sighs. “No, that would be letting him win.”

“ _Letting who win, exactly?”_

“The cat,” says Hiro like it’s obvious. He puts the call on speakerphone and sets the phone on top of the cabinet where it’s outside of the splash zone. “Although right now he looks more like a beluga. Who is this, exactly?”

The voice chuckles. _“It’s Tadashi, or did you forget me already? Thanks for saving your number under ‘Please Don’t Call Me’, by the way. Very you.”_

“You’re welcome,” says Hiro absently. They’re going to need to buy more kitty shampoo soon. Or Hiro could conveniently forget, and put off another bath indefinitely. He does his best to give Mochi the full spa massage treatment, although that only relaxes it a little bit. “Did you need something?”

_“No, I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing. And see if you were free this weekend. For, you know. Important science stuff.”_

“Important science stuff,” says Hiro blandly. “I dunno if you’re up to my speed, Hamada. I mean, I work on exciting robot parts. You sit around looking at vegetables all day.”

He can almost hear Tadashi fake-pouting on the other end of the line. “ _Aw, come on, don’t you want to wow me with your amazing inventions? Show off Baymax? Maybe let me install an antibacterial spray in his fingers?”_

“No thank you,” says Hiro primly. Mochi takes the opportunity to sink its claws into his arms. Hiro bites back a shriek. “ _Son of a_ _bi-”_

“Hiro?” Aunt Cass calls, knocking on the door and startling Hiro, Tadashi and the cat into silence. Hiro clears his throat.

“Come in, Aunt Cass.”

She pops her head in, smiling. “Hey, kiddo. You almost done washing up?”

He smiles back despite himself. “Yeah, give us about fifteen minutes. Do you want me to pick up dinner later? I think we’ve still got those coupons from Toni’s Pizza.” Mochi, suddenly docile, pops its head over the edge of the tub and mewls.

“Pizza sounds good. I don’t think we’re gonna have anything left over after the neighbourhood book club leaves. Pepperoni?”

“ _Save me some,”_ says Tadashi cheerfully, apparently not realising he’s still on loudspeaker.

Aunt Cass perks up. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Nobody,” says Hiro quickly. _Meow_ , says the cat.

There’s a pause, and then Tadashi chuckles again. _“Now that’s not very nice, Hiro. Hello, ma’am. My name is Tadashi, I study in SFIT. Hiro promised to work on a project with me.”_

“That’s wonderful!” says Aunt Cass as Hiro tries to dry his hands, but is thwarted by the cat splashing him again. “Are you in the same class? Oh, if you’re working on a project together, you can come over! I’ll whip you boys up something for lunch. Do you like spicy food?”

_“I love spicy food.”_

“Great! Drop by the Lucky Cat whenever you like, we’re on the corner of 4th and 5th-”

“No we’re not,” Hiro interrupts, hands finally dry enough to snatch up the phone and hold it to his ear. “We’re in, uh, Canada. Like, Quebec. _Hon hon hon baguette Eiffel Tower._ Seriously far. I take a plane to class every day.”

Tadashi laughs at him. _“The Eiffel Tower is in France. I’ll see you sometime this weekend, then. It’s a date.”_

“It is _not,”_ Hiro huffs at what is, he realises belatedly, the dial tone. “He hung up on me! What a tool!”

 

Aunt Cass’s hands are light on his shoulders. “Hiro, he seems like a nice boy. Maybe you should try to get to know him, hmm?”

Hiro doesn’t actually whine, but it’s a close thing. _"_ He threw a _potato_ at me.”

“Now why would he do that?”

“Well, it was sort of an accident, but still _.”_

She smiles, pulling him down to kiss his forehead as though he were a little kid. “I’m so glad to see you making friends. When you graduated high school early I was worried for you. You always looked so…” she pauses, and then strokes his cheek. “Anyway, it looks like this new school is treating you well. You seem happy.”

He softens. “I am happy, Aunt Cass.”

“So, _Tadashi,_ huh? Is he cute?” she grins, ruffling his hair.

Hiro splutters. “What? I don’t know. What does it matter, anyway? I’m not a girl.”

She gives him a look. “Oh, honey,” she says, and leaves it at that.

Mochi yowls, a signal that the bathwater must be getting cold. Aunt Cass pinches his cheek and turns to leave. “Your parents would probably disagree with me, but you’re old enough to start dating, Hiro. It might be nice to spend time with someone other than Baymax.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Baymax,” Hiro hollers after her, forgetting to wrap Mochi in a towel before lifting it out of the water. He gets an armful of wet fur for his trouble, as the hellcat gleefully takes the opportunity to rub itself all over him.

“One day I’m gonna eat you,” Hiro scowls.

Mochi bites him. Privately, Hiro wonders if it’s worth installing disinfectant spray in Baymax after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You’re not gonna wear shorts, are you?”

Hiro glances up, textbooks falling slightly out of his grip. Wasabi reaches over to nudge them back into place. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”

Honey Lemon pats him on the shoulder kindly. “They’re not really date clothes, Hiro.”

“Who said I was going on a date?”

“You did,” says Wasabi, sounding like he’d much rather be anywhere else. “You hurtled into the nerd lab and stomped around for ten minutes until Honey caved and asked you what was wrong, and then you spent another ten minutes complaining about how Takashi invited himself over to your aunt’s cafe.”

“Tadashi,” Hiro corrects him, frowning. “When did everyone else start calling it the nerd lab? I’m not a nerd.”

"You’re the only one of us who’s never seen the inside of a gym. You have no hobbies outside of robots and manga. You’re a nerd.”

Hiro puffs his cheeks out at him. “Just because not everyone can bench press the Ishioka building-”

“I think jeans would be a nice change,” Honey Lemon interjects smoothly. “Maybe with a button down?”

“I’m not dressing up for someone who wears old man cardigans,” Hiro says.

The hallways are crowded, and despite having grown some since his high school days, Hiro finds himself clinging to the back of Wasabi’s shirt so he doesn’t get jostled around. Honey Lemon sidesteps people easily, partly because her head sticks out of the throngs like a pretty coconut tree among shrubs. Math is boring enough (on a Friday, no less) that Hiro would normally just skip, but the combined insistence of Wasabi, Honey and his lecturer have him trudging to class today with bad grace.

“He keeps looking for excuses to hang out with you, Hiro. He’s been to the nerd lab twice this week. Give him one date, and then you’ll know for sure whether you want to take the next step,” Honey says brightly. Hiro makes a face at her.

“Why aren’t you guys listening to me? I keep telling you, he’s not my type. He’s got one Y-chromosome too many, ya know?”

“If you wear those shorts I’m telling GoGo,” says Wasabi.

“You _wouldn’t.”_

“I totally would.” The door to the lecture hall squeaks slightly when Wasabi holds it open for them. “Shut up and go on the date. The tension between you two is thicker than Callaghan’s eyebrows. Y’all need to get over yourselves.”

“Whatever sexual tension you’re seeing isn’t real,” Hiro huffs as their lecturer starts up the first of six million slides.

“I never said it was sexual,” says Wasabi.

He’s smug about it, too. He doesn’t even flinch when Hiro punches him on the arm, but on the plus side they do get to watch him squeeze his six foot two inch frame into a seat that looks like it was made for people aged six to twelve.

“I’m still wearing the shorts,” he mutters under his breath. Wasabi doesn’t hear him, so Hiro chalks that up to a win.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _“You’re not wearing the shorts,”_ says GoGo.

Hiro squeaks. “Who said anything about me wearing shorts?”

“ _I know you, Hamada.”_

Hiro pauses in pulling on a sock. “Did you call me just to tell me not to wear the shorts?”

_“I called you to tell you not to screw this up, and also not to wear the shorts. Tadashi’s a catch, so do it right. The others send their best wishes and whatever, by the way. And I mean it about the shorts. I’ll get Baymax to take pictures of what you’re wearing.”_

“I didn’t think you felt that way about me,” says Hiro, wrestling on his underpants. “Okay, okay, I won’t wear the shorts. Anyway I don’t see what you’re so worked up about. This is not a date. I’m not gay.”

_“And I’m a Pokemon. Have fun today, Hamada.”_

“I’ll try,” Hiro says.

She hangs up. Shrugging, Hiro rifles around for a pair of jeans, stiff from underuse. The plaid shirt he picks out is clean, at the very least, so Tadashi and the rest of the world will simply have to make do. Activating Baymax, he takes the stairs two at a time and skids to a halt at the café counter. “Hey, Aunt Cass.”

She’s up to her neck in orders, but she does spare him a once over and a smile. “You look nice, honey! I’m glad you decided to ditch the shorts.”

“My shorts are _fine,”_ Hiro says in exasperation.

She hands both him and Baymax a plate each and shoos them off to help her through the shift. The work is simple but taxing, and Hiro finds himself eventually zoning out and surrendering to the monotony of mechanical movement.

 

True to his word, Tadashi shows up at around half past two bearing a little bouquet of hyacinths. The Saturday lunch rush has dissipated by now, so Hiro is free to roll his eyes good-naturedly at him as he comes in. At least Tadashi’s ditched the god-awful cardigan, although he’s replaced it with an equally god-awful button-down-and-sweater-combo that makes him look like a dork. Really, _he’s_ the nerd, not Hiro.

“Hi,” Tadashi says.

“Hi,” says Hiro, jerking his chin at an empty table. “Those flowers for me?”

“Do you want them?”

“Not really,” says Hiro. “I never really understood the concept of murdering innocent vegetation and putting it on display. It’s all pretty macabre.”

“Consider this a testament to my abilities as a hunter-gatherer.”

“It’s not hard to hunt a plant. It’s not like they move around much.”

Tadashi grins. “I bought these for your aunt. Thought it would make a good impression.”

Hiro waves her over from the counter. “Oh, I see how it is. Using me to get to her. You like older women, huh? Scoundrel.”

“I promise that’s not what’s going on,” Tadashi says, smiling wide at Aunt Cass. He hands her the flowers. “Thanks for having me.”

“No need to thank her, you’re a customer,” says Hiro.

Aunt Cass pinches him. “Don’t be cheeky, Hiro. It’s so nice to meet you, Tadashi, you seem very sweet. Don’t listen to him, lunch is on us. Pick anything you like from the menu! I’ll make sure to give it a little kick.

Tadashi takes a second to look at the chalk board suspended above the counter. “A burger would be really great, Ms Cass.”

“Sure! Burger alright for you, Hiro?”

“Yeah, thanks, Aunt Cass.”

“Okay. I’ll whip that up for you, you two just make yourselves at home and I’ll leave you alone. Thanks for the flowers, by the way, they’re beautiful!” She bustles off back to the counter with a meaningful smile. Hiro shrugs and takes a seat, gesturing for Tadashi to take the other. Tadashi, for some reason, drags it over so they're sitting side-by-side.

“So, no present for me?”

“Oh, I got you a present,” Tadashi grins, pulling something green out of his back pocket. “I didn’t peg you for a flower kinda guy, so I wrote you a little code for Baymax.”

“Huh.” Whistling, Hiro beckons Baymax over and turns around in his chair. “If this hurts him, I’ll kick you.”

“It won’t, hopefully,” says Tadashi as Baymax greets him. Hiro slides Tadashi’s chip into one of the ports protruding from Baymax’s chest. The robot’s eyes refocus for a brief second, and then he blinks and looks down.

“Hiro, I must suggest you use all four legs of your chair instead of trying to balance on two. You could fall.”

 

Hiro almost does fall. “What- did you turn him into a nanny?”

“I turned him into a _nurse_ ,” Tadashi chuckles. “I said I would, didn’t I? I didn’t put any defibrillators in his hands, though. Maybe I’ll wait till the third date for that.”

“No defibrillators,” Hiro warns absently, prodding at Baymax.

“More dates are allowed, then?”

“What? No.”

“Aww.”

There’s a sound like the rumble of a very small car. Tadashi jerks slightly, and then leans back to peer under the table. His face breaks into a large smile. “Is this your kitty?”

Hiro wrinkles his nose. “That’s not a cat, it’s an abomination.”

“Don’t be mean.” Hauling the chubby creature into his lap, Tadashi rolls it over and tickles it under the chin. “Hey, big fella! Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good, fat kitty? You are!”

“He really isn’t.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Tadashi coos. “Hiro’s just a big meanie. He doesn’t love you like I do.”

The cat, suddenly all big green eyes and affection, purrs like an earthquake. Swiping playfully and Tadashi’s hand, it mewls and settles into a loaf in his lap. Tadashi smiles, and Hiro puts a hand to his chest in mock outrage. “What, you’ll claw me to ribbons but you’ll be all cute with him?”

Aunt Cass’s footsteps are fast, but light. “That may be because you keep trying to strap rocket boots on him, Hiro.”

Tadashi thanks her for the burgers she sets in front of them, which are roughly the size of his own head. She pats him on the shoulder and hurries back to work. “Why did you try to put rocket boots on a cat?”

Hiro gestures at it. “Have you seen Mochi? With how big he’s getting, soon that’s gonna be the only way he can get around.”

Tadashi holds the cat to his chest. “Don’t worry, Mochi, he didn’t mean that.”

Mochi agrees by promptly sticking its face into Tadashi’s burger. Tadashi bursts out laughing.

Wordlessly, Hiro pushes his plate over. “One of these days I’m going to eat him.”

“That level of cholesterol intake would be inadvisable,” Baymax interjects.

Hiro stares at him, bemused. “Why a nurse? Why not, like, laser arms?”

Tadashi pats the robot on the tummy. “He doesn’t seem like a fighter to me. He looks more like someone who wants to help the world. Ain’t that right, fella? How do you feel about retiring from the battlebot life to become a healthcare provider?”

“It would be appropriate for my disposition,” Baymax muses.

Hiro tosses a french fry to Mochi, who catches it neatly in its mouth. “You seem to like medicine. Why aren’t you a doctor?”

For a second, Tadashi pauses, chewing contemplatively on one of Hiro’s pickle slices. “I don’t think I would actually be very good at medicine. I mean, I’ve been building robots since I was a little kid, so I think engineering was kind of the best path for me. But, you know, my parents are both doctors, and they help people. I want to help people too, the only way I know how to. So, I build medical machinery. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been able to do more studying medicine anyway, but I’m enjoying myself. And, I did get to meet you,” he says, and then grins.

Hiro mirrors the grin without meaning to. “That’s a privilege not a lot of people have, you know. You’re lucky you decided on SFIT instead of med school.”

“And you’re so smart, with that big brain of yours. Our neural-cranial transmitter is gonna be so great, but I won’t be able to do it without your superior intellect, you know?”

“Yes, I can see why you’d say that, especially considering how I _stop trying to flatter me into helping you!”_

“Sorry,” says Tadashi, taking Hiro’s right hand in his own.

Hiro blinks at it, perplexed. “What? Are you about to drag me somewhere?”

“Not unless you want me to,” says Tadashi, leaning across the space between them.

Hiro leans back. “Is there something on my face?”

“Not yet,” says Tadashi, tugging him closer.

“Then what exactly are you doing?”

“I wonder,” Tadashi says, and kisses him.

 

Baymax will later report that Hiro sat stock-still for exactly six point seven seconds, but at this very moment it feels like roughly six point seven million years. Tadashi’s mouth is warm, chapped and tastes like pickles with an undercurrent of cocoa butter lip balm. This is information Hiro could probably have lived without, but, well, there it is, and it’s not going away any time soon. Tadashi pulls back with a shit-eating smile, the kind that screams, _yes, this is good, I have done what I came here to do._

Mochi mewls, and Hiro immediately shoves Tadashi’s face away with the heel of his hand.

“WHAT THE FUCK, HAMADA.”

“What?” asks Tadashi, face still smushed against Hiro’s palm.

Hiro almost smacks him. “What do you mean, ‘what’? What was that?”

“A kiss?” Tadashi hazards.

“Jesus Christ, _why?”_

Tadashi pushes his hand away and frowns. “Because I like you?”

“Why?”

“You want me to give you a list?”

“No, I mean-” Hiro gestures frantically, stopping to grip at his own hair in alarm. “I’m not gay!”

“Then what am I even doing here.”

“ _I don’t know!”_

“Your breathing and heart rate seem to have increased dramatically,” says Baymax, reaching out to still Hiro’s flailing arms gently. “Increased blood flow to your facial area may result in a momentary rise in body temperature-”

“You don’t need to tell me that, Baymax-”

“-however, your neurotransmitter levels have also increased-”

“ _Yeah,_ no kidding, I mean this guy just- wait, no, what.”

Baymax blinks at him. “Your serotonin, epinephrine and dopamine levels have risen abnormally quickly within the past two minutes. I believe this means you are happy.”

Hiro stares at him, slack-jawed. “No, I’m not.”

Tadashi’s grin is back. “Yeah, you are.”

“No, I’m _not.”_ Bristling, Hiro stands, picks Mochi off Tadashi’s lap and tosses the poor creature onto the floor. “I’m not, and I can’t believe that you just did that _right in front of Aunt Cass,_ not to mention all the other patrons in the store.”

“I don’t think she minds,” says Tadashi, looking over Hiro’s shoulder.

Hiro doesn’t bother turning around to confirm this. Instead, he seizes his taller guest by the elbow and physically yanks him out the door. Tadashi follows, turning to call a hasty farewell to Hiro’s guardian before he’s turned around and suddenly assaulted with an absolutely poisonous expression. He shuffles his feet nervously even though Hiro is easily four inches shorter than him. “How’s it going?”

“ _Don’t do that in front of my Aunt again.”_

“Sorry.”

Hiro runs a hand through his hand and sighs. “I’m not gay.”

“Okay.”

“It’s fine if you are. But I’m not.”

“You liked kissing though.”

“That’s not-” Hiro starts, and then flushes. “It’s not because it’s you. I just happen to like kissing in general. Even though, you know, you’re like, a dude.”

“Okay.”

“I just like physical affection, okay?”

“Okay.”

“ _I’m not gay.”_

“Okay.”

“Okay. As long as you understand that,” Hiro says, glancing at the café window to make sure nobody’s staring at them. As it turns out, nobody really seems to care much for them at all.

Tadashi tilts his head inquisitively. “More kissing, though?”

Hiro considers this for a brief moment, and then grumbles and shrugs. “Whatever. But no homo.”

“No homo,” Tadashi says and leans down, smiling. Very gently, he traces the tips of his fingers over the soft swell of Hiro’s cheek. He lowers his face to Hiro’s and grins.

“ _Full_ bi.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Monday comes too soon.

Hiro would be safe if this had been one of the weeks with nothing but lectures, but the fact that they’ve mostly got lab work to do means that Hiro is completely defenseless from the prodding of his closest friends. _Previously_ closest friends. It might be worth revoking their status as his posse, considering they seem to have no interest in showing him any mercy.

“Gay,” says Wasabi.

“We’re happy for you,” says Honey Lemon. “Tadashi’s really nice!”

“Gay,” says GoGo.

Hiro clutches at his…contraption. He’s not actually sure what it is he was trying to build, but the thing on his work desk is a monstrosity of screws, bolts and loose circuitry. He tosses it aside and grits his teeth. He’s taken a vow of silence, but at this rate it won’t be long before he gives up and sasses his friends the way they all deserve to be sassed. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he activates Baymax in the hope that he will have someone to talk to who has not suddenly become unbearably annoying.

It’s almost lunch. Hiro’s iPod, which has somehow (bizarrely) managed to find its way back to his desk, skitters around maniacally. Hiro doesn’t know what it’s looking for, but he bitterly hopes it doesn’t find it. Maybe he should follow its example and leave. Leave San Fransokyo in the pursuit of the greater truth. Of the meaning of life. Of solace from the cruelty of his friends. Of freedom. Of happiness.

Fat lot of good it would do him now, though. Tadashi, after a weekend of constant text messages and completely outdated emojis, has announced that he will be dropping by so the two can have lunch together. Hiro had hoped to lessen the inevitable teasing by letting the others know in advance, but it seems to have backfired on him rather spectacularly.

“I’m not gay,” he tells them gravely.

Fred doesn’t look up from his manga. “You made out with him. That’s pretty homo, bro.”

“I am not gay!” Hiro snaps, spinning in his chair so he can point a finger for effect.

Whether for divine entertainment or because he has truly unfortunate timing, Tadashi chooses that moment to pop his head through the door and smile. “Hiro, I brought burgers! I had to walk with them, though, so the buns might be kind of squished.”

The iPod starts playing some song about anacondas. This time it’s with practiced ease that Hiro flings the thing out the window.

“Not that I’m judging, but why do you keep doing that?” Tadashi asks, appearing mildly concerned.

Hiro scowls. “I think the better question is, how does it keep getting back _in?”_

Baymax peers at Hiro with interest. “Hiro, it seems that your heart rate and neurotransmitter levels have increased, indicating that you are in a state of-”

“I’m gonna throw _you_ out the window, Baymax.”

Baymax appears to consider this. “I fail to see how that would help the situation.”

“We should throw Hiro out,” Fred snickers. “Out of the closet.”

Hiro flips him the bird.

Materialising next to him, Tadashi waves the take-out bag in Hiro’s face and pats his head. “Come on, Hiro. It’ll get cold if we don’t hurry. I wanna sit in the Ryuugazaki gardens, this time, it’s really nice there in fall.”

GoGo waves them away from where she’s tinkering with her bike. “Go on, go have your date on the roof or something. If I have to look at you two being gross I’m gonna hit you.”

“It’s not a date,” Hiro protests very loudly.

Honey Lemon graces him with one of her sweetest smiles. “Don’t worry, take all the time you need.”

“ _It’s not a date!”_

“Gay,” says Wasabi again.

Hiro throws his failed robot at a wall. “ _Fine,”_ he snaps, grabbing Tadashi violently by the wrist and making him drop their lunch. “I will _prove_ to you assholes,” he heaves Tadashi across the room -“that I am _not-”_ he kicks a closet door open - _“gay!”_ he shrieks, and slams the door with more strength than should logically be in an underweight five-foot-six young man.

 

There’s silence for a good few minutes, during which the rest in the lab (bystanders included) stare shell-shocked at the angry Hiro-sized footprint on the door.

Then, there is a very loud, very _masculine_ moan.

It doesn’t stop. Hiro does, however, manage to scream over the noise.

“WHO’S GAY NOW, HUH?”

Wasabi sighs and goes back to polishing his spanner. “You know, technically still you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was not, in retrospect, the best idea to prove his heterosexuality by fucking the living daylights out of another man.

Hiro realises this as he’s checking Baymax’s new upgrades, Tadashi hanging off him and insisting they go see a romantic movie soon. The others have been giving him a wide berth since Monday. Hiro’s not sure if he appreciates it or not.

Predictably, everyone else on campus is treating them like an item now, because Tadashi has quite a shockingly bad habit of grabbing his hand and trying to kiss him in public. Hiro isn’t sure how he feels about this either, but when he’d first realized what he’d doomed himself to, he’d done the sensible thing. He’d gone home to throw himself out the window.

(Of course, the biggest window at home was on the first floor, and Aunt Cass had found him sobbing into the flowerbeds not two hours later. So, not much good came out of that at all, in the end.)

Now Tadashi rests his chin on the crown of Hiro’s head to point out a coding error in the lower-left corner of the computer screen. Someone snickers behind them. Hiro ignores them resolutely.

He supposes, if he’s going to be really honest with himself, that this arrangement is not entirely _bad._ Tadashi is kind, if purposefully annoying, and it is actually quite pleasant to have someone he can video call into the wee hours of the morning. Half of the time they don’t even say anything, just make ugly faces at each other and laugh.

And, well, Aunt Cass seems happy that he’s found himself a man, so he can’t very well disappoint her now. Somehow, he thinks, he’ll just have to soldier on.

Tadashi plants a kiss on the back of Hiro’s head. The quiet laughter behind them intensifies.

 

 

“ _Homo Hamada,”_ Fred giggles under his breath. Hiro bellows at him across the room to shut up.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *bursts into the bh6 fandom* DID SOMEBODY SAY WE NEEDED MORE STUPID HIDASHI FIC?
> 
> no?
> 
> well what the fuck am i gonna do with these 28 pages then
> 
>  
> 
>  **EDIT:** I now have a hidashi [tumblr](http://thehomodabrothers.tumblr.com/). come yell at me. we all know i deserve it.


End file.
